Hogwarts: The Blood Mage

"To my son, my blood, my legacy—" Aidan began reading, something in his heart clutching as he vocalised the first few words, seeing the paper full of blotches that seemed to be from tears.

"If you are reading this, then the moment I feared the most has come. You are old enough to learn who you are, and why I am not there beside you.

Your name is Aidan Haimadros, and you are the last heir of our house, a bloodline older than the stones beneath Hogwarts, older than the Ministry's memory. We were once guardians of a deeper kind of magic, one passed not through spellbooks but through blood —a memory carried in marrow. 

I am so, so sorry this is the only thing I can give you. I wanted to raise you, to protect you myself. But the enemies of our blood were already hunting me before you were even born. I ran out of time, out of choices. In the end, I did the only thing I could. I took you where they would never find you, among those who knew nothing of us. You have to know, I gave you up not because I wanted to, but because it was the only way you could live."

Aidan's own voice had become strained, by the raw emotions he was feeling. Regret, pain, sadness... and love. He could feel it radiating from the letter. His adoptive parents put a hand on his shoulders each, tightly holding him to reassure the boy it was fine. After a few seconds of recomposing himself, Aidan continued.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there for your first steps, your first spell, to hear your fears and dreams. I hope your adoptive family gave you a home full of love. I hope you felt wanted, even if I could not stay to show you how wanted you truly were.

In time, you may come to learn that our family was not perfect. We were secretive, proud, and sometimes feared. But we were never cruel. We guarded magic that others wanted silenced. For that, we were hunted. And now you, my son, inherit both the burden and the power of that legacy."

The last few lines caught his attention. What magic would be so powerful and ancient that others would want it to be erased from the annals of history?

"You do not have to reclaim it if it feels too heavy. You do not owe us your future.

But if something in your heart still calls you back to your name, to what was once lost... then know that you walk with the strength of generations behind you.

I wish this letter could be a conversation, full of stories, of warmth. I wish I could ask how your day was, whether you've made friends, if you've found joy in magic. So please allow this unworthy mother to ask, even if I'll never hear your answer: Are you safe? Are you kind? Are you a good student? Do you have a girl you fancy?

I love you, Aidan. I loved you before I even knew your face. And I believe in the man you are becoming, even if I can never see him.

Your mother, Selene Haimadros

The last to fall, but not the last to hope."

By the time he reached the last word, Aidan was weeping in his parents arms. He had never spent much time thinking of his real parents, and he always convinced himself that he did not need them. He did not need to even know about them. But knowing in his case hurt. It hurt so deeply that he could not explain the pain he was feeling. It was a mixture of grief and... relief. Relief because he had been loved. Relief because he had not been abandoned. He had been saved. He had been protected. And his parents, his family... they had been hunted until not one of them was left. He had been robbed of them as much as they had been robbed of him. 

Ivy and Jack had to console him for almost twenty minutes until Aidan could gain a semblance of calmness, but they could tell he was deeply affected by the contents of the letter. Bloody hell, even they had been affected. Jack's grim look was as much emotion as you could get out of the man, while Ivy was weeping with Aidan, empathising with the pain of a mother who had been robbed of her child in such a cruel manner. 

It was then that Aidan realised the letter had something more written on the back. 

"PS: If you do wish to reclaim this cursed name... go to Gringotts and claim your inheritance. They have our family ring, which you will need."

Aidan remained there, unmoving, while thinking about what he had just read. He knew he did not have to do it. He knew it would be selfish. He knew it would be unfair to his adoptive parents. But he could feel the pull. His blood boiling in sadness and anger, his body enveloped in a warmth he did not know he was missing. Then Jack spoke. 

"No matter what you do, you are our son, Aidan." He said, his voice reassuring and his lips drawing the thinnest of smiles. An honest smile. "Follow your heart, son." 

"Your father is right, Aidan..." Ivy said, her voice strained from crying. "Your surname does not matter. You will always be our little Aidan." 

And with those words, Aidan was once again sobbing, hugging both his parents as tightly as his body would allow. 

*

"Mum, dad, I think I will not be able to continue carrying the surname Thorne anymore." Aidan said, his expression in between a wry smile and down-turned eyebrows. "I... I want to reclaim what was meant to always be mine." 

"And we support you, Aidan. Just know we are your parents and always will be." Jack answered, making sure Aidan knew he would never stop being a Thorne, surname or not.

"I love you guys." Aidan muttered words he did not say often, but he believed would be right for the moment. "I really do." 

"And we love you, Aidan." Ivy said before hugging him one last time. "Now go to sleep young man, you've got a long day tomorrow."

*

That night, as one would expect, Aidan had trouble sleeping. His brain was working at full throttle and he had no idea how to stop it. Haimadros. Haima. Hema. Blood. He remembered small hints from the letter. Phrases that referenced blood and the many times it was mentioned directly. It wasn't until three, maybe four AM that Aidan finally fell asleep. 

In his dreams, he saw white trees with crimson leaves, a colour very similar to blood when very oxygenated. Beyond the trees was a manor, old-looking, burnt down by a fire long snuffed out. Then he heard a scream and woke up. 

He was drenched in a cold sweat, recovering from holding his breath in his sleep, something he had thought was impossible. 

"A memory carried in marrow..." Aidan muttered, remembering once again the contents of the letter. There was more to House Haimadros than just being an Ancient and Noble House, and Aidan felt his inner Ravenclaw stirring. "I'll reclaim this legacy, and I will unearth all of its secrets."